


Some people are just like that, aka 5 times pain conquered Shane and 1 time Shane conquered it

by Ad_Victoriam31



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Ableism, Angst, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Disabled Character, EDs, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Physical Disability, queer platonic relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19815832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Victoriam31/pseuds/Ad_Victoriam31
Summary: Shane has EDS but, like many people, he goes most of his life without a diagnosis or any validation. Even his eventual diagnosis is ableist. He learns to deal with the pain, pretend it doesn't exist. Luckily, there's one person he doesn't need to pretend around.





	Some people are just like that, aka 5 times pain conquered Shane and 1 time Shane conquered it

**Author's Note:**

> I've fallen into the hole of Unsolved yet again and there's not nearly enough chronic pain fics. My self-indulgent disabled ass needs it so I wrote it! Enjoy!

1.  


His first memory was pain. Tripping, falling, blinding white pain, crumpling to his tiny knees. Screaming, crying, clutching his wrist. Sobbing as the nurse bent it for the x-ray. Tears of pain turned to confusion and anger as the doctor knelt in front of him and gently told him that nothing was wrong, that he needed to be a brave boy. That the hospital was only for very sick and very hurt people and he was neither. When it happened again to his knee a month later, 6 year old Shane Madej did not cry.  
  
2\. 

He was fourteen, sitting on the examination table for a sports physical. He hated sports. Especially football. After every practice his whole body would ache and burn, flames licking up and down his body. Each throw, each catch, each tackle fed the fire, the tongues threatening to envelop him altogether, swallowing him in a blaze of agony. His doctor tutted. He went home with clearance to play, a bottle of magnesium supplements to prevent muscle spasms, and instructions to stretch more before playing. The flames stretched higher.  
  
3\. 

He stared at the dark ceiling and prayed to a god he didn’t believe in for the pain to stop. His hands, long, delicate fingers, were frozen in claws of agony, curled in on themselves, spasming. Everything in him yearned for sleep, the elusive state he had been chasing for an eternity. Pain killers didn’t work, they never did, but on nights like these, he took them out of desperation. He’d had to find a straw to swallow the pill with water because he couldn’t lift the cup off the counter. Dry sobs shook him as his fingers spasmed again, illuminated by the dawn.  
  
4\. 

He sat on a curb in LA, heavy foot traffic bending around him like a rock in a river. His ankle was dislocated, actually dislocated, and he didn’t know what to do. His daily pain was normal now, a familiar agony, almost comforting in a new city, but this was different. Excruciating. This was pain he couldn’t just push down, this was not pain he was in charge of. His breaths came in gasps, spots dancing in front of him, threatening to envelop him. He could see how it formed a zig zag, his foot veering off from his leg. It didn’t make sense, he hadn’t even twisted it. Nausea welled inside him. He called an ambulance.  
  
5\. 

His body ached from being poked and prodded, stretched and bent. The rheumatologist the hospital had sent him to, comically tiny beside him, spoke rapidly, his words blurring in the haze of pain. In a nasal, unsympathetic tone, he informed Shane that some people were just extra flexible and nothing could be done. He just had Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. At least he didn’t have RA. Have a nice life of pain, that’ll be $235. As Shane walked out, the ache in his joints seemed to settle deeper, nestling itself closer, tightening its tendrils, as he tried to imagine the next 70 years with it.  
  
1\. 

He was half asleep, his head on Ryan’s lap as Ryan carded his fingers through Shane’s hair. Draped across his long body was a heating blanket, radiating heat that Shane swore fixed everything.  


“I think you’re a cat” chuckled Ryan, tugging on a knot. “Look at you, you’re basically purring.” Shane smiled sleepily, reaching a long arm up to pat Ryan on the head.  


“Coulda cat do that?” he asked, words slurred in relaxation. His shoulder popped. “Owie.”  


“Hey, bad Shane-cat, leave your poor shoulder alone,” Ryan scolded, gently tucking Shane’s arm under the blanket and slipping the shoulder back into socket.  


“M'sorry shoulder. Not a cat though.”  


“Alright, whatever you say. Just shut up and sleep.” Shane had no protests.

**Author's Note:**

> I googled pictures of dislocated ankles for this, y'all better appreciate me. Also, the things Shane's rheumatologist said are direct quotes from mine (not the have a nice life of pain part obviously) so that's fun.


End file.
